


Tell Me a Tale

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Sansa is reunited with her half-brother, Jon, at Castle Black.  She finds comfort in his company when she is troubled that night.  And Jon finds comfort in being with family again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rewatched the Reunion scenes a while back and wanted to do this little one-shot to pay homage to one of my favorite moments from the show...ever. I've toyed with it on and off for a couple of weeks and decided I needed to finish it so I can focus on writing a shoot out in another fic : )
> 
> I own nothing of course and I used asoiaf wiki to help me remember the 'tale' that Jon tells Sansa.

_“Have you ever heard the one about the Rat Cook, lad?” Donal Noye asked._

_Jon sipped the strong ale and grinned, “Yes, Old Nan told me that one, too.” The ale was not good but it warmed him a bit in this place that was never warm._

_“Your old nurse told you all the good tales then.”_

_“Well, she wasn’t really my nurse. She was a serving woman at Winterfell. My father said she was the oldest person he knew and had been there since before he was born.”_

_“As old as Maester Aemon?”_

_“Perhaps. I don’t know her age.”_

_The blacksmith rose and clapped him on the shoulder before heading out of the dining hall. Jon looked around at the unfriendly faces surrounding him. He had only been at Castle Black a sennight and had not managed to make a single friend until perhaps tonight._ I’ve made a few enemies though _, he thought with a shake of his head._

 

Jon woke from the dream which had been a memory. He didn’t sleep so well anymore. Not since he had died. He got out of bed and started moving about the room, packing up his things. He was leaving Castle Black and the Night’s Watch for good. His watch had ended when he’d bled to death in the snow. _I pledged my life. I gave my life_. Coming back from the dead didn’t change that, not in Jon’s opinion.

There was a pounding at the door and he bid the man to enter. It was Edd, coming to try and talk him out of leaving yet again.

“Where you gonna go?” Edd said at last.

“South.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

“Get warm,” Jon said trying to make a joke and only getting an exasperated look in response.

A horn blew and they heard someone shout to open the gate.

 

* * *

 

 

The horse was exhausted and if they’d had to ride much farther it probably would not have survived. _Poor horse, you have carried me so far_. She was chilled to the bone but she had made it. Thanks to Theon, thanks to Brienne and Pod, and thanks to the poor horse she had made it to the Wall at last. A place she’d never have imagined travelling to at one time. It had been a long journey, especially as they had avoided the road as much as possible to escape notice.

Their escape from Winterfell had to be made in haste after Myranda had appeared and Theon had killed her. They had not planned to have to jump from the castle’s walls. Theon had not planned to flee at all until that moment when the part of him that was still Theon awoke. She’d not known for certain where to go but Theon had told her to go to Jon. It was where she’d wanted to go anyway ever since Ramsey had told her of him being Lord Commander. So, after she’d bid farewell to Theon, Brienne had asked her if that was where she still wanted to go. It was. They’d turned north to where Jon was, the only family left to her.

Men stood about the court yard gawking at her as she rode through. Her head whipped this way and that, seeking him out. She did not know if he was even here. _A Lord_ _Commander might be called away on other matters at times, I suppose_. _What if he’s not here?_ She should’ve thought more on this. She should’ve thought more on him altogether. _He would’ve made a good ranger_ , she thought remembering all the training he did in the yard with Robb when they were younger. _He’d want to be a ranger like Uncle_ _Benjen_. _I wonder if he likes being Lord Commander at all_.

These others would not want her here. They wouldn’t care that she was a broken girl that needed her brother. She didn’t even know if she’d be permitted to stay here. _Tyrion visited the Wall. Stannis was here. Surely, we can stay, too,_ she thought desperately as she felt the tears start to prick her eyes and tried to command them to stop. A brother dressed in black came and took her horse. They all stood staring at her as though they’d never seen a girl before and Sansa shivered a bit. _Well, they stare at Brienne as well_.

Memories of the past kept coming back to her. Arrogant and thoughtless things she’d said to him as a child. The cruel way she would ignore him at other times. He’d always been kind but it had been clear he did not cherish her the way he did Arya and perhaps she’d felt slighted by that. But she knew where the blame lay for the distance between them. And now she came here seeking him, needing him, asking him for protection and safe haven. Would he even give it to her? Would _he_ ignore _her_ now? Perhaps coming here was the stupidest thing she’d ever done in all her years of doing stupid things. _No, the stupidest was trusting Littlefinger_.

Just as she started to lose faith in her plan, she glanced up and saw him standing at a railing above staring at her, eyes wide with complete surprise. She suddenly couldn’t move. She felt rooted to the muddy spot where she stood in the courtyard as she watched him walk slowly and purposefully down the stairs and towards her, his eyes never leaving her. He stopped a few feet away and kept staring at her. She was breathing hard. For an instant, she feared he’d asked why she’d come or tell her she was not welcome. _I’m sorry I_ _was never a sister to you the way Arya and our brothers were_. But, that was not like Jon. He’d always been kind even when she’d been horrible.

She rushed to his arms and, when she felt his strong arms enfold her, she finally felt safe…for the first time in years.

 

* * *

 

 

They had reminisced over times past. She had apologized, in a very Sansa-like way, for the way she’d treated him. And then they had quarreled over where to go. She was completely mad of course. _You’ll do it yourself? Good luck with that_ , he’d wanted to counter. But telling her no would not be easy. It had never been easy. Saying no to Sansa was something he’d never been any good at…even when she was a being an ass to him as she’d put it.

Tonight though, he wanted her to sleep in a bed for the first time in days. He wanted her to rest in that bed and have no fear of being woken from her slumber and raped in that bed. So, he’d given her his bed and swore to watch over her. Her lady knight had made a feeble argument but Sansa had ridden over her objections with all the ease of a queen who was used to getting her way rather than the girl that had been a victim of cruelty and manipulations for so long.

He sat in a chair by the fire in his chambers as she settled down in his bed. Ghost was already snoozing and Jon watched the firelight reflecting off her hair. _Kissed by fire_ , he thought with a sad smile.

Perhaps he did not sleep so well anymore but, as he sat by the fire and listened to Ghost snore and watched the firelight dancing across his sister’s hair, he started to nod off. Her loud gasp woke him. His feet jerked from the stool where he’d propped them up and slammed to the floor. He was reaching for his sword that he wasn’t wearing at the moment before he was fully awake and his heart was pounding in his chest when he saw her. Frightened and pale, she sat up in his bed with the furs thrown back off her, panting heavily as though she’d just run a great distance.

“Sansa?”

Her eyes found him and she clutched her chest and shook her head. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

He bit back his impulse to make a comment about her having bad dreams as a little girl and coming to Robb… _and occasionally me_. He walked over to her instead and looked down on his lovely sister, _my half-sister_. She reached for him and he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms. Her own thin arms wrapped around him and squeezed with the same urgency as earlier when he’d first seen her. _How could I have forgotten how good it feels to have someone I love hold me and let me hold them in return?_ _I never would’ve guessed how empty it makes you feel until I’m reminded of what I’ve been missing_.

He’d spent so many years barely being touched by other people except when fighting. Barring the occasional clap on the shoulder, men didn’t touch each other all that often. His time with Ygritte had moments of loving touches but it had also been filled with its own set of worries and tensions. But Sansa, half-sister or not, she was family and he loved her and there was no harm in comforting each other this way.

He stroked her lovely hair with one hand while his other caressed her back and he whispered kind words in her ear. _I never thought to hold Sansa this way. It would come quite_ _natural to comfort Arya…though perhaps not quite the same_ , he thought as he felt his pulse quicken. Her hair was soft as silk and her back was warm beneath his hand and there was a stirring now that was...not brotherly. _Sansa and I were not close. You are only confusing brotherly kindness for something else because you are not used to being this close_ _to her…or any woman_. But as he held her, he could not help but admit to himself that there was a different sort of emotion tied to this comfort. One that he would’ve considered quite out of place with Arya. _Need…desire_.

“Tell me a tale, Jon,” she whispered into his neck as she allowed herself to be held. “Tell me a tale to make the night bearable again.”

He pulled back from her arms, shocked by the thoughts that had just run through his mind, and cleared his throat. “A tale? What kind of tale would you like to hear?”

“Something that isn't horrible.  And not some stupid song that I used to believe.  Something about the Nights Watch maybe?”

Jon pondered on that for a moment and tried to remember some of the stories Donal Noye had told him when he was still as green as summer grass and new to the Watch. He’d heard them all from Old Nan regardless though perhaps Sansa had not. She’d preferred stories and songs of love and knightly valor. He’d liked some of those, too, though he’d never have told the one-armed smith that.

“I can’t think of a tale exactly…not one that you haven’t already heard or isn’t horrible anyway. Do you know the stories of Good Queen Alysanne?”

“I’ve heard the name but if I ever knew any story of her, I don’t know it now. What’s a queen to do with the Nights Watch?”

“She was the queen of King Jaehaerys Targaryen I, who was her eldest, surviving brother. She had a dragon called Silverwing. When the king and queen travelled north and visited Winterfell, Queen Alysanne wanted to visit the Wall. She rode her dragon there. She was impressed by the bravery of the Black Brothers. In her esteem for them, she convinced her husband to double the lands of the Gift, taking those lands from House Stark. It has been called the New Gift ever since.”

“Oh, yes. I’d forgotten why it was called that,” Sansa said. “Perhaps I’d been taught it in lessons…I don’t remember. There’s so much I wish to forget…” she grew quiet and Jon hoped she would not be too sad now. He’d wanted to comfort her, not make her sadder. She squeezed her arms around him and he tightened his embraced again. “I’m sorry, Jon. Please tell me more.”

“Oh…well, she saw the sorry state of the Nightfort which was very costly to maintain and she donated jewels to the Nights Watch so that they could construct a new castle…Deep Lake. To show their appreciation, the Nights Watch renamed Snowgate to Queensgate to honor her.”

“That is nice,” Sansa said as she let a small yawn escape. “There’s a sad song called ‘Alysanne.’ Do you think it’s about her?”

“Some think so but no one living is certain of it.”

He grew quiet and felt her steady breathing as he held her close to him. It was almost as though he could hear her heart beating. His mouth felt dry. His hand was still caressing her back and he knew he should probably move it. He could not find the will to do so though and he brought his other hand up to card through her lovely, red hair.

“She was called Good Queen Alysanne for more than just that though.”

“Oh?”

“Yes…she was an intelligent woman and she would not tolerate disrespect from men, even her king. King Jaehaerys favored a boy relative once in a succession matter over a girl and Queen Alysanne said that if he thought females were of so little use, he could do without her. She left him for a time. Well, Jaehaerys couldn’t do without her of course and he sought to make amends with his queen and eventually succeeded.”

“A wise king then,” Sansa said with a laugh.

“Oh, yes. A wise man listens to the smart women in his life,” Jon answered. He bit his tongue when he remembered their quarrel from earlier and what Sansa wanted him to do. She looked up at him with a smile and he continued his tale. “She was her king’s most trusted advisor and she held great influence over him they said. He was considered a good king so she must receive some of the credit for that, I suppose.”

“Certainly.”

“She also convinced her king to abolish the lord’s right of First Night.” Sansa stiffened in his arms and now Jon truly wished he could chew his own tongue off. _Why would you mention something like that to her? Knowing what she’s been through...or_ _at least some of it_. “I’m sorry, Sansa. I shouldn’t have mentioned…”

“She was a good queen indeed,” she merely said and relaxed into his embrace once more. “But they were king and queen, husband and wife but also brother and sister,” she said looking up at him. She lightly touched his face. “It seems strange to think…”

“Well, they were Targaryens,” he said allowing his head to rest against hers now.

“Yes…that is true.” The fire crackled and popped and Jon went to check it. Sansa laid back down on his bed and watched him tend the fire. “Jon? Would you lay with me tonight? It’s been a long time since I’ve not had to fear another’s touch…since I have wanted someone to be near me, to hold me. It would be sweet to be held by someone who cares about me, someone who matters to me…please, just for tonight.”

He knew he should say no but he’d never been any good at saying no to Sansa and he knew that he would be saying yes. He nodded to her but took his time tending the fire. He looked at Ghost sleeping contentedly on the floor. Her blue eyes were nearly black in the low light but they were still open when he walked back to the bed. Perhaps part of him wished she had already fallen back asleep so he could return to his chair by the fire…because part of him wanted nothing more than to share her furs and her warmth this night. He climbed into the bed next to her after removing his boots and jerkin. He pulled her up close and heard her sigh. And he slept better that night than he had since he had died…better than he had in years in truth.

 

* * *

 

 

**Three Years Later**

 

“Shhhh, little one,” Sansa said softly in the night. “You’ll wake your father.”

“I’m awake,” he said with a gravelly voice from their bed. She heard him rise from the bed and come over to where she was feeding their daughter who was nearly four moons old now. “How is our little girl?” he asked with a sleepy smile as he pushed his curls back from his face.

“She is well…only hungry,” Sansa said, blushing as she felt Jon’s eyes roam to her breast where the child sucked.

They had been married for two years but he’d been away much of that time. _Fighting for the North and fighting for the living_. Their couplings were no longer awkward like they had been at first. It had been difficult the first few times for Jon to get past her having been his half-sister most of his life and it had been hard for Sansa to let the last of her fear and mistrust melt away to willingly lay with him and accept that he would never hurt her.

But they had managed to establish a comfortable intimacy between them despite the scarce time they’d had together from reclaiming Winterfell until he was called away to the South and then off to fight in the North. She’d missed him sorely while he was away and since his return Sansa had longed to renew their relations. But as of yet, he’d not touched her like that. She knew the blessed babe at her breast was the reason. He still desired her and she was glad of it but sometimes she still felt awkward when he would gaze at her a bit intensely as he was doing now. _I long for my husband’s touch again all the same_.

Sansa had remained in Winterfell as he’d wished while he had travelled far and wide to make a pact with Daenerys and fight the Others. The last time he’d been home before the Great Battle for the Dawn was fought, they had made this child, their first. He’d not known of her until he’d returned home a moon ago to find Sansa nursing the newborn. If he’d been hurt that she’d not written to him of the child, she’d comforted him by saying that she did not wish to cause him additional worry when he was so preoccupied.

Jon reached down and caressed their daughter’s small head that was covered with auburn fuzz. “Alysanne. You are so sweet,” he murmured.

Sansa had chosen the name for a reason, not just because she'd been a good queen and not to please Jon's Targaryen aunt. That night in his chambers at Castle Black when they’d been reunited, when Jon had comforted her in the dark and told her a tale and then held her close throughout the night…that was when Sansa had started to feel hope and love bloom in her heart once more. _Without his words and tender touch, I might have turned to stone. I nearly did anyway…but I could not, not when I had his love_.

She laid the sleeping child back in her crib and straightened. He walked up behind her and put his hands on her waist. He kissed her chastely on the cheek. He wouldn’t push for his desires to be met, not this first time after the child anyway. She would have to let him know what she wanted. She leaned back into his chest and turned her mouth towards his. He kissed her lips and, when she parted her lips under his, she heard his groan of desire.

“Sansa,” he whispered, half a prayer and half a plea.

“Yes,” she answered. “Make love to me tonight, Jon,” she said before turning in his arms to face him and letting him pull her up close for more kissing.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Yes. And afterwards…”

“Yes?”

“Hold me.  Lie next to me in our bed and tell me another tale.”


End file.
